Chapter 224 Romance.

Chapter 224: 224 Romance.

Planning an evil scheme took a lot of thought, time, and effort. Especially the sort of high-profile scheme I was looking to put together for Vanessa.

Her old man was paying top dollar, and if I didn’t deliver a strong enough return on his investment, I risked losing a hell of a lot more than just my professional reputation.

I also couldn’t help wondering what The Jester would do if he ever found out I’d already slept with his daughter in the past. Oh, boy.

Not so long ago, planning a gig meant pulling up a chair in front of a battered laptop in my one-bedroom apartment, cracking open a cheap beer, and making a few quiet calls to see who needed a punching bag.

Those days were dead and buried. Now, I was running a premier syndicate, and I had a whole table of lethal, ridiculously attractive women to bounce ideas off of.

I gathered the crew in the main conference room at the heart of the chalet. Between Lilith’s overhauls and Rhea’s lab upgrades, the place had everything an aspiring overlord could ask for.

I sat in my iron throne at the head of the long mahogany table, the massive wall monitor behind me casting a cool, buzzing glow across the room.

Arranged around the table were Rhea, Glacia, Psyren, and Lilith. I’d initially gone back and forth on bringing the demoness into an operational briefing, but considering our target was a magic-based heroine, having a literal denizen of the underworld on the consulting team felt like a smart play.

Plus, she was impossible to ignore. All the girls were knockouts, sure, but Lilith was a different breed entirely.

Towering and crimson-skinned, she showed up every morning in a new, increasingly scandalous outfit—though, to be fair, she could make a burlap sack look like fetish wear.

Today she was squeezed into a low-cut, violently pink halter dress that left her shoulders bare, her spaded tail happily flicking against the legs of her chair while her glowing yellow eyes beamed at me from beneath her curling horns.

"Alright, ladies," I said, resting my forearms on the wood. "Let’s talk plots."

"Operational parameters, sir?" Glacia asked, pen poised over a legal pad.

"Good question," I said, lacing my fingers together. "Before the Bureau mess derailed our schedule, we talked about running a tiered heist. I think this is the exact moment to bring that playbook out of storage."

"Hell yeah. We got totally cockblocked on the last one," Psyren chimed in.

"Right. So this time, we do it properly. Up until now, most of our jobs have been one-and-done brawls, because that’s what standard contracts pay for.

"Most established capes already have a dedicated nemesis on the payroll, we just fill the airtime while their regular arch-villain is breaking out of a federal supermax, crawling back from an alternate dimension, or waiting for their jaw to unwire.

"This gig, however, comes with a fifty-million-dollar budget. We need something with actual narrative build-up."

"Ooooh, I love a good story arc!" Psyren grinned, tiny pink hearts sparking in her irises.

"More than that, it’s a golden opportunity to get you three some solo spotlight," I added.

Glacia tilted her head. "How do you mean, sir?"

"I mean we run a classic three-stage video game campaign," I explained. "Each of you takes point as the primary threat in an escalating series of crimes, leading up to the final boss fight with me. It gives Vanessa a string of publicized wins, builds momentum in the press, and cements her as a heavyweight before we even trade punches."

"Sound strategy, sir," Glacia agreed, before frowning slightly. "Though, what is the overarching objective?"

"That’s why we’re brainstorming. First requirement—the whole operation needs a heavy occult angle."

"Ew, magic," Rhea groaned, sticking her tongue out and slumping back in her seat. "Hard pass! Give me cold, hard plasma coils over fairy dust any day of the week."

"Normally I’m right there with you," I said. "But Vanessa’s whole brand is sorcery. If we want the public to buy her as the next great mystic defender, the threat has to match her aesthetic. And without leaning too hard into clichés, the easiest thing to sell on camera is a demonic incursion."

"Demons?!" Lilith gasped, slapping both hands over her cheeks as she practically bounced out of her seat. "Oh, Milesy! You’re speaking my language! Are we doing a hell-mouth?! Please tell me we’re doing a hell-mouth!"

"We’ll definitely be leaning on your expertise to make it look authentic," I told her. "Which brings me to the most important rule of this entire job: the ritual has to be a hundred percent fake."

"Fake, sir?" Glacia asked.

"Completely," I said firmly. "The absolute last thing I need is to accidentally open an actual portal to the lower planes in downtown Metropolis. It just needs to look terrifying for the news helicopters."

I clicked a small remote, switching the monitor behind me to a blank slide titled OCCULT BULLSHIT.

"First order of business is nailing down the set piece," I continued. "I’m leaning toward a classic midnight summoning ritual. Tell the press I’m calling up an infernal legion to bring the Eastern Seaboard to its knees."

"Wait, so zero real demons?" Rhea asked, her ears drooping a fraction.

"Zero."

"Awww, Milesy, you’re such a tease!" Lilith whined, pouting dramatically as she flopped forward onto the table, her cleavage threatening to spill right out of her halter top. "And here I was getting all excited! I know so many girls down in the dritten ring who would literally kill for a weekend pass up here! We could have had a mixer!"

"I have nothing against your friends, Lilith, but my hands are plenty full managing the one succubus already living in my house," I said dryly.

"Hmph! Well, I suppose that’s true!" Lilith giggled, her pout vanishing instantly as she sat back up and puffed her chest out with shameless pride. "Besides, if I brought the girls up, I’d have to share you! And I am terribly greedy when it comes to my favorite bad boy!"

She shot me a massive, glowing wink. I had to actively fight down the heat creeping up the back of my neck.

Even after weeks of living under the same roof, these women still knew exactly how to short-circuit my brain—not that I was complaining.

"Right," I said, clearing my throat loudly. "Anyway. Lilith, since this is your wheelhouse, anything we should know to make the window dressing look convincing?"

"Oooooh, do I ever!" Lilith squealed, shoving her chair back and springing to her feet.

She practically skipped around the perimeter of the table, her heels clicking a rapid, upbeat rhythm against the floorboards while her hips swayed with effortless, hypnotic energy. It was impossible not to watch her move; she treated a boardroom briefing like a cross between a high-fashion runway and a slumber party.

She stopped right in front of the glowing monitor, tapping a manicured crimson claw against her chin as she scanned the blank slide before spinning back around to face us with a blinding, bubbly grin.

"Okay, so! First thing you gotta know about summoning devils, Milesy, is that we are huge drama queens!" she chirped, throwing her arms out wide. "Tearing a hole through the fabric of reality takes a ridiculous amount of juice, sure, whatever—boring!

"The real secret is the presentation! Demons love feeling special! If you don’t put in the effort with the spooky candles and the geometry, nobody worth inviting is even gonna pick up the phone!

"And the sacrifices! Oh!" She clasped her hands together over her heart, letting out a dreamy, fluttering sigh that made her entire torso jiggle. "That is the best part! You wouldn’t believe the kind of parties mortals used to throw to get my attention back in the day, Milesy! The feasts! The wine!

"The absolute, wall-to-wall orgies! People today have zero sense of romance—nobody’s offered me a proper fifty-person blood-cult mixer since the seventies!"